


The unwanted crown

by Ava626



Series: The iron crown series [2]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, F/M, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2018-09-15 10:09:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9230285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ava626/pseuds/Ava626
Summary: Two people in love. Not with eachother though....This work is a side story to 'Heavy is the head that wears the crown' and 'A crown, if it hurts us, is not worth wearing', also part of the Crown series. It can somewhat be read as a standalone, but it is (to my humble opinion) more interesting to read the other stories first.I did not come up with writing this story by myself, but a much appreciated reader of my other stories suggested it, thank you :)





	1. 1

**Dina**

He wanted me even less than I wanted him, that much was clear from as soon as we met. Oh of course he was courteous; saying all the things a man should say in such a meeting, and gracing me with all the things gestures a man should make. Executed gruffly, but nonetheless.

His brother and my father set this up, consulting us little to none. My father merely told me I was meeting lord Dwalin, and I doubt his brother asked for his approval of this match. And so it came to be that we sat in the lavishly decorated room that was usually reserved for important meetings of the king, but neither of us could enjoy it. We were mere puppets, waiting for what the puppetmasters were going to do.

Servants brought in dish after dish, but I found myself unable to eat much; after a few grapes I felt like I had eaten a whole hog. My soon-to-be intended had no such problem, he ate like a man having his last meal before going to the gallows. Perhaps that was how he felt, like he was being sent to the executioner.

When the desserts were finally cleared off the table, my father sent me away, and I knew they were going to negotiate my marriage. I couldn’t help but feel this was terribly unfair, them deciding about my life. Perhaps it was all the time I spent above ground, getting used to the ways of Men, but the thought of having to obey a husband irked terribly.

But what could I do? I could only hope I would give him a son and he would leave me alone after that. Perhaps his position would grant me some freedom to employ some of my own interests and skills, maybe even secure a place in the queen’s council, if there was going to be one in my lifetime.

 

X-O-X-O

 

Father seemed happy when he returned from the meeting, and as I had not been able to go to sleep and hear the outcome in the morning, he came to sit next to me.

“Balin was generous, Dina, and we have come to an agreement.”

I could only nod. Perhaps, somewhere deep inside of me, I had hoped they would not have been able to come to terms, and the whole thing would be cancelled. But no such luck. And as I was realistic enough to know that the chance of Dwalin being my One were next to nothing, I resigned to a loveless life.

“Will you sign it?”My father’s redundant question pulled me back from my useless dreams of love, and inwardly I scoffed. As if I had any choice! This afternoon he had told me that this marriage was to happen, wether I desired it or not, and now he asked me if I would sign?!  But I knew my place, so I nodded, and he seemed satisfied by that, judging by the big grin on his face.

“Than we shall proceed with that tomorrow.”

Again I nodded, but my hesitance was either unseen or ignored, as he continued: “You will not receive seven courtinggifts, that is reserved for queens and princesses, but I expect he will bestow a token upon you tomorrow. I hope you will show him your gratitude.”

I contemplated just nodding again, but I needed more information. “I shall father. Is a date for the wedding already set?”

He roared with laughter. “That anxious, are you? Well, I don’t blame you, lord Dwalin will be a fine husband. You can have it within the month, or wait a little longer with the risk of being overshadowed by a royal wedding.”

That was interesting. I wondered whom it was king Thorin was going to wed. Probably not his consort; she was too dim to notice his interests in her lay only in one area. But for as far as I knew, he had never been seen with another woman.

“A month it shall be then.” I told him curtly before retiring to go to bed. His blatant social climbing was embarassing, but it was yet another thing I would just have to ignore if I was ever to hold my head up high.

 

X-O-X-O

 

He bowed and kissed my hands, but he did not say much else. His brother Balin did most of the talking, droning on and on about conditions and terms and such. I just nodded every once in a while, and that seemed to suffice. I only started to focus again when my father handed me a feather to sign the documents, and without reading I did so.

“Well, let us give the betrothed a chance to get to know eachother” My father said as he got up and held the door open for lord Balin.

Once they had left, I feared there would be a long, awkard silence. But Dwalin produced a small, carved wooden box and put it on the table in front of me.

“Just something small to show my affection for you.” He grumbled, seeming to be evenly confounded as what to do in this situation.

Carefully I opened the box, and in it lay a ring with a very large diamond. Upon further inspection, the mythril band was painstakingly engraved with the angular pattern that formed the sygil of his family. I was both surprised and unsurprised to find out he at least had a hand in the making of the ring. He did not seem like the man that would do something for a woman he did not much care for, but het he also did not seem like the man who would do anything halfhearted.

“Thank you, lord Dwalin.” I said, and I genuinely meant it. It was nice of him to make such an effort for me, many men in arranged marriages would not, and perhaps it gave some hope for the future. Hope not for love, but for companionship, fondness.

“As we are to marry in a month, I suggest you just call me Dwalin, everyone else does so.”

“Dina.” I replied with a bow of my head.

I couldn’t help but be pleasantly surprised with him. It hadn’t been so much his words, but his small gestures en the way I somehow felt at ease with him. And so I couldn’t help but ask; I just had to know. Silly me……

X-O-X-O

 

**Dwalin**

She seemed hesitant, I saw that from the first time I laid eyes on her. Had she been older, I would have called it weary, but in her age it was more likely resignation. I liked the situation no more than she did, but at least for me it was some sort of an escape. I highly doubted it was so for her.

Yet she remained curteous, too courteous and kind for me. I did not know what to do, nor what to say, but I was also saved from that, as dinner was brought. Either Balin or Thorin must have really wanted to seal this deal, as no costs were spared. I wondered if Thorin knew something of my feelings.

When the dinner ended, even I felt sated and in a good mood for negotiations. But if I was honest, negatiations were always more easy with someone else’s money. I had told my brother when he initiatly proposed this match, that I would marry if he thought it best but that I would not pay a single coin for her, nor would I be the one to arrange her gifts. There was only one I had once given a gift to; there would not be another.

 

X-O-X-O

 

The bride price that was agreed upon was a little above reasonable, after all, her father had no titles, yet. But Balin and her father seemed pleased, so I did not argue and signed the contracts without further ado. So did she, to my surprise. Somehow I had gotten the impression there was more fire in her, more life, more will. But it seemed there wasn’t. Either that, or her father had somehow forced her into this. I could not find it in myself to care; why should she deserve a faith better than another?

When Balin had handed me the box prior to this meeting, I had not looked at its contents, merely accepting it. I saw the hope in his eyes, and I knew it was not merely the hope for expanding our family line, but also a hope for me. For me to find some sort of hapiness, or at least consolation. But how could he know? How could he, a man that had never known the true, pure love of a woman, what this felt like? He could not and he did not. He did not feel how yet another part of my heart was burned away, this time by my innocent betrothed whom liked her position as little as I did. Another victim to the marriage drift that roared through the noble lines here in Erebor.

When she opened the box, I saw the work Balin had put into this. Our mother’s diamond, set on a new ring made of mythril, with the pattern of our line engraved into it. The fucking pattern of our line, what a joke!  Yet it was in those small, geometrical lines that I saw his heart, and it nearly broke mine.

I needed to make a gesture of my own, but the only thing I could give her was my name and my permission for her to use it. She returned the priviledge, whipering her name to me. Dina. Dwalin and Dina. Perhaps it would work. Maybe.

But then those dreaded words left her mouth. “Am I taking someone’s place?” she asked in a soft tone with a slightly tilted head, a blush creeping up to her cheeks. “I mean—have you found—“

I scraped my throat to give me more time to find an answer. I needed to put a stop to this right away if I were to avoid spilling my secret at some point. It was to remain between Balin, me and _her_ , not even Thorin knew.

“You will see that I will grant you many liberties, Dina. You may have seperate chambers should you choose to, you may plan your days as you like. You may ask anything you like of me. Except this. This is a subject that will never be discussed between us again.”

I tried to sound as gentle as possible, but I still saw her cringe under my words. I took a deep breath of air, trying to cleanse myself from this whole situation. “I will see you at the wedding.”


	2. 2

**Dina**

In the days to follow, I could not shake off the feeling Dwalin’s words had given me. He had not been unkind or agressive, but he had made it very clear we were not to discuss it further. Yet behind the sternness lingered something different, some great pain he was unwilling to speak of. Who was it, I wondered, that could bring such a strong warrior into such a state? Never had I heard rumours or gossip of any kind, only stories heralding his courage on the battlefield and his loyalty to the line of Durin.

Yet I desperately wanted to get to know him, wanted to know the man behind the armour, the facade he put up. But everyone that might know something, I had already spoken to, so I was left with nothing but to wait for the day of my wedding to come.

Not even the preparations for the weddingfeast could divert me from my thoughts, as they were done mostly by Dwalin’s family. With him being so close to the Durin’s, the wedding feast was to be appropriate to be attended by the king, and appearantely Balin did not trust my family to arrange festivities to that standard. Probably for the best, as my mother always seemed to be a tat bit on the tacky side. It would be fun though, seeing king Thorin amidst a flock of white doves she proposed we release after the contract was signed. The though of our monarch flailng his arms to keep the feathered rats away while his hair and beard were covered in white, fluffy feathers made me gigge a bit, but as my handmaiden looked at me as if I was ready for the assylum, I managed to compose myself.

With a sigh I turned back to the choice of fabric for my wedding nightgown. What hell was my life going to turn into, of this were suddenly my priorities: silk of chiffon?

 

X-O-X-O

I did not think I was one of those girls often plagued by their ‘nerves’, feeble and unknowing, on the contrary, I fancied myself rather practical. _Do what needs done_  is a saying I would say suited me. But on this morning the morning of my weddingday, my dress seemed too tight and I could not breathe, my throat was parched and I felt like my skin is burning up. I was not sick, but I felt like I could pass out any moment.

Looking back, I should have known this was a sign that it would not end well, but father gave his word, it was unfathomable to pull back now and embarass everyone. And so my handmaiden and my mother helped me to the throneroom as well as they could, and by the time the doors would open and father walked me over to Dwalin, I looked reasonably composed.

I had expected Balin would lead the ceremony, but to my surprise, a pleasant one, it was king Thorin that did the honours. I knew Dwalin and him were distantly related, and he was a confidant of the king, but this was near unprecedented. To my knowledge, king Thror had not even done this for prince Thrain. To inspire such friendship from one so mighty was a sign that my husband was a good man, or at least I hoped so.

This hope, this littlest sign of the character and personlaity of my husband, was something I held on to as if it was a life booey and I was drowing, for the duration of the ceremony and the banquet after. I could not wait for it to end, as the people surrounding me seemed to have no idea of how I was feeling. Ironically the only one that could relate a bit, was my new husband.

When I followed Dwalin to my new house I realized I should not have wished for the party to be over, but for it to last forever.

 

X-O-X-O

 

**Dwalin**

 

There have been many instances that I have been most greatfull to have Balin as an older brother, instead of, let’s say, the ever fussy Dori. But ever since he proposed a marriage for me, I came to resent him more and more. And when I was standing on something people apprearantely call a pedestal  and there was a tailor asking me if my cock hung left or right, I felt  fratricide was a very reasonable act.

That feeling became even stronger when people started asking me what I wanted to wear, and of whch fabrics it should be made. What the fuck did I care?! If I had to stand there, in front of everyone, in front of _her_ , and promise my everlasting care for a woman I hardly knew, I would prefer to do it in my leathers. That, unfortunately, was not an option, so when the risk of being stabbed with needles subsided, I just told them to make something appropriate and left. Fucking buggers with their velvets and silks.

 

X-O-X-O

 

“Why in Mahal’s name did you agree?” Thorin laughed, and I wanted to hit him upside the head with my cup of ale.

His laughter, boomed out in the privacy of hs chamber, seemed to draw that trollop of his out of his bedroom, and it seemed my day could not get any worse. _I_ knew he, for some mad reason, wanted Emma by his side instead of the giggling git, as Kili had dubbed her. _He_ knew he wanted Emma, hell, even _Balin_ knew, so why were we still having Jessa’s presence forced on us?

I couldn’t help but smile when she wanted to sit on Thorin’s lap, his lap for fuck’s sake, who goes to sit on the lap of the king?!, but Thorin told her we needed to talk about some private matters. Her dimwitted smile faltered, and she went back to the bedroom, moping probably.

“Why are you agreeing to this?” I asked him, nodding towards the bedroomdoor, hoping to steer away from the debacle named Dina.

My friend ran his hand over his face and sighed deeply, staring at the bedroomdoor. “It’s easy, uncomplicated.”

I could relate to that, to the need for simple things. Things that were not always so consuming they could swollow you whole, things that did not require thought. I leaned back and lit my pipe. Taking a few puffs before offering it to Thorin, who refused with a small shake of his head.

“Do you remember that time we met that odd fellow up on the mountain?” He chuckled, and it brought a smile to my face. We hadn’t even had our coming of age ceremonies yet, but we felt like we could conquer the world. And so we had decided we should start with the mountain, going all the way to the top. We would have made it, I reckon, if it had not been for an old man living in one of the caves we passed, some sort of herbal healer. He seemed quite happy to have some company, and he offered us food and drink. And pipeweed. Only not the regular type. It had been an interesting afternoon, though we never made it to the top.

“We should try again.” I said, and he looked up at me. “Climbing the mountain.”

I though he wold either laugh or embrace the idea, but he seemed to look even sadder. “We already have mountains to climb, I just fear we won’t make it to the top again.”

It was either ruling or women that Thorin spoke of, and as I knew he sometimes did find ruling boring but it went well, there was little doubt that finding a wife did not go so smoothly as one might expect for the king of the richest kingdom in Arda.

“You only want her?” I tried, partly out of wanting to focus on him instead of me, and partly out of curiosity.

The fact that he did not even ask whom I meant by ‘her’ was telling enough, so his ‘aye’ was only confirmation.

“I don’t think she’ll have me, though.” He murmured, unclear if he spoke to me or himself.

“She’s a woman, give her a bit more time and all will be well.”

After that, we stared into the fire, busy mulling over our respective problems.

 

X-O-X-O

 

When I walked into the throneroom I saw to my surprise that my brother was sitting on the front row, flanked by his wife, instead of standing in the front to lead the ceremony. Taking his place was Thorin, and he looked at me with that develish gleam in his eyes.

He had done it once before with me, though more often with others, at my coming of age ceremony. The mighty bugger knew, from his own experience, exactly when everyone’s attention started to wane and thoughts were pulled to daydreams or plans. And at that exact moment he would slip in something completely unappropriate. When I asked him why he did it, he said it gave him great satisfaction to sometimes not be so serious.

I had not expected him to do it now though. Before he was king, before Smaug, it had all been fun and games, something he would be able to get away with if caught. Now the stakes were higher. Yet, at the end of my wedding ceremony I was not only married to Dina with everything that traditionally entailed, I was also obligated to compensate the crown with a goat everytime one of the princes mistook a male elf for an elf maid. A mistake at least one of them made easily. I would have to get a herd of goats.

Unfortunately such wit was not present at the banquet, only a silent wife on my left side and a slightly drunken Balin in a philosophic mood on my right. He had taken the lightening of my mood Thorin had caused as a sign that I was happy with this marriage, and he seemed to have gotten the idea that just a little more insight in the bless that was marriage would complete my happiness.

And then I saw her. She had not been present at the ceremony, I was sure of that. But now that the main course was served, she took her place next to Thorin. Desperately I tried to catch her gaze, convey somehow that she was still the only one for me. Only when dessert came, did I succeed. But only in catching her look, not in sending her the message I wanted to. Because what I saw, was nearly as bad as it had been at another wedding, 84 years ago.

I could not bear it, I was too weak, and so I looked away and drank another ale.

X-O-X-O

When the party ws nearly done, she appraoched me. I did not see her at first, but I did see how Balin was looking at her in consternation. I got up and walked towards her.

“Congratiolations, Dwalin.” She murmured.

I wanted to take her hands in mine, hold her to my chest and carry her out of here as I had done when Smaug came and she had been trapped. I wanted to go somewhere we could be just us, where we could shut out the rest of the world. I did not know how many times I had considered just leaving with her, building a small house somewhere in the wild and live of the land. Bu we both knew it was too late. It was 84 years too late.

“It is and will ever be only you, Iansel.” I breathed out, and then she left, disappearing in the crowd of people dancing and singing.


	3. 3

**Dina**

And there we were, alone in his bedroom, our bedroom now apearantely, and expected to have bloodstained sheets for his brother to show to who knows who.

“Do you need help?” He gruffed, and I needed a moment to understand what he meant. Help with undressing, that’s what he was offering. I wanted to say no, wanted to ask if we could not do this with our clothes on, but I though that would be rude, so I nodded gingerly.

I though he would be rough, uncaring, but he was surprisingly gentle. Hole by hole he untied the ribbons that closed the back of my dress. When they were loose, he slowly lowered my dress, and held out his arm so I could step out of the many layers of fabric. But when I stood there, feeling horribly exposed in just my shift, I did not feel threatened. He did not stare, nor did he start groping me. He just took off his own clothes, _all_ of his clothes, and laid in his bed, seemingly patient for me to follow him.

Once I was also under the covers, he looked at me for a moment before speaking. “We can do this whichever way you want, if you prefer to be on your stomach so you won’t have to see me, then that’s fine. But I would like at least two children.”

His words were the straw that broke the camel’s back, and I couldn’t stop myself from starting to cry. Because what he was really saying, was that there would be no effort, not even a try, to create something that might imitate love between us. Being here, in a bed with a virtual stranger, naked, was scary enough as it was, and he spoke about doing _things_ in such a way that I would not look at him. And through my hurt and my tears,  wondered if that was for my benefit or his’.

“I just want to make this as easy as possible for you.”  He said while awkwardly patting my back. “it does not mean I don’t—“

I just nodded, trying to wipe away my tears and stop crying. Another few pats on my back followed and then he just sat there again, leaning against the headboard, seemingly content with waiting for me to pull myself together. I knew I would have to at some point, one could not expect him to be so patient all night. So when I wiped my tears one more time, I took my shift off without looking at him and laid down in the bed, pulling the sheets over me for at least some modesty.

He came to lie next to me on his side and he wiggled his arm under my neck, so I would lean on it. He was kind after that. His hands stroked instead of took and he murmured soft, comforting words. And even though I found pleasure amidst all the confusion, I couldn’t help but be disappointed afterwards. Somewhere in my heart I had hoped we would be able to find eachother in this, as the characters in my mother’s romance novels did. That he would lean his forehead to mine and we would look deep in eachother’s eyes and there would be some spark and we would live happily ever after.

But it wasn’t like that, in was a trade. He would be as gentle as he could be in exchange for me bearing his child.

 

**Dwalin**

When we walked though the long hallways, her steps became smaller and slower as we neared my appartment, seemingly only pushed forward by Balin’s walking behind us. And when I opened the door for her, there was a small moment in which she hesitated. But she pulled herself together and stepped over the threshold with a sigh. I ignored Balin. If he wanted to be a witness to what was probably going to be one of the most humiliating moments in my life, he could damn well open the door himself.

I led by example as I walked straight to the bedroom, and in there she stood still, her back turned to me. I wondered what to do for a few moments. Normally this kind of indecision would annoy me, dealth with by barking out a few choice words, but the lass was nearly as scared as I was. So I helped her with her dress, and as I did not know the words to get this thing started, I led by example again and got into bed naked.

Of course I was not incompetent in this area of life, but as I lay there in my bed, waiting for an unwilling woman to join me, I realised I much preferred my arrangements as they had been. The cold distance of coin exchanged for a warm body and a welcoming smile, was so much less taxing than this ordeal.

With the exception of gold in trade for a short moment of relief, I believed she felt the same. She had no significant feelings for me, and I did not think she would develop them over time; I’m usually not the kind of person to evoke such feelings in people. So I offered her a more easy way, a way in which she knew what was expected but did not need to be confronted with me in such a vulnerable moment, a way in which her imagination or memory could perhaps be of consolation.

I should have known it would come out wrong, things of this nature usually did. Give me a battalion to lead and they’ll do what I want in seconds. Give me a woman to talk to and she’ll cry in seconds. Simple facts of life. I patted her back and tried to take my words back, but what is said, can never be taken back. I had learned that lesson a long time ago, when a word was given for an arranged marriage. Words could not be taken back. Another simple fact of life.

So I gave up and sat back. I had half expected her to run as fast and as far as she could, would that not be a great story to be told in the inns, but she seemed as resigned to the situation as I was. And so she took off her last piece of remaining clothing and slid under the covers.

Her courage was astonishing, yet not enough ground to elicit more loving feelings in me, those feelings that she wanted. I could give her some tenderness, some enjoyment, but I could not give her the love she craved. And as she searched for my gaze as I was on top of her, I stared at a point around her chin, ignoring the way she tried to put her forehead to mine. It was just too close, too intimate.

When I saw a single tear drop down her cheek afterwards, I took the sheets to Balin, throwing them on the ground before feet, not even looking at him before closing the door again. If only he’d left me to my whores.


	4. 4

**Dina**

In the days to follow, he remained gentle and kind, but also distant and withdrawn. I had always imagined my honeymoon to be a time in which I would get to know my husband better, get to know who he really was. But all he gave me were some tales of the journey to Erebor he had made with king Thorin and memories of how Erebor used to be before Smaug. That, and an arm to lie on after we slept together.

On the morning of the sixth day I was cuddled up to his side, trying to find some warmth in him, when he suddenly cleared his throat in a manner that was not entirely functional for actually clearing his throat.

“Was the—eerm – was the wedding planned fortuitously?” He asked.

To my shame it brought a blush to my cheeks, I could feel them heating up clearly. He was not asking if I liked the date, he was asking if our honeymoon was in the right moment in my cycle. Men, I internally scoffed, they had the audacity of using women as breeding mares, but not the guts of just saying it plainly.

I rolled back to my side of the bed, and told him I did not know, that we would have to wait and see.

“I will return to my duties today.” He said, not responding to my answer in any way. “Would you like your own chambers?”

I was not sure what the two had to do with eachother, but it hurt more than I would have expected. Now that he had done his ‘duty’ to his line, he wanted nothing more to do with me, was disgusted with me.

Dwalin must have seen my thoughts clearly written on my face, as he got out of the bed with a scowl and started putting his trousers on. “I already told you, Dina, I can not give you want you want, I don’t have it in me. I’ll provide you with anything you need, but my heart I can not give for I don’t have it anymore.” He burst out, and had I been standing in front of him, I would have backed away.

But as it was, there was no threat coming from him, no agression, just frustration. So I just nodded, not wanting to aggravate him further. “I think I would prefer seperate chambers, Dwalin.”

He nodded curtly and then left, the closing door sounding ever so final.

Three weeks later I was sure I was pregnant.

 

X-O-X-O

 

We normally ate in de king’s dining hall, being surrounded by other people and their conversations made the lack of love between us less palpable. But tonight I hoped we could eat together, so I could tell him privately that he was getting a child.

Food had been delivered to out apartment and I made sure the place looked nice, going as far as to even light candles. But when the time came that he was usually home, I heard not one but two pairs of footsteps in the sittingroom.

Our guest turned out to be the king, and after a moment of shock I managed to compose myself and welcome him to our home. Looking back, I don’t know why I felt shocked to see king Thorin in our home, except perhaps that before I was married such a thing would never have happened. But seeing how close Dwalin was to his royal cousin, I really should have expected it.

“Would you like to join us for dinner, your highness?” I politely asked.

He accepted the invitation, so I quickly went back tot he dining room and blew out the candles. I did not think the king would aprreciate a romantic mood during a dinner with his friend.

In hindsight, perhaps I should have kept the candles on, as they only spoke to eachother, completely ignoring me. The only thing I got out of the dinner was bitter diappointment in yet anther slight from my husband and the knowledge that a potential bride for the king was arriving in a week. What made that piece of knowledge worthwile was not that she was arriving, half of Erebor probably already knew that, but that she was going to have to choose between king Thorin and his nephews. I wondered who had to parade in front of who like chattel on the market.

 

**Dwalin**

In all honesty, I was both relieved and disappointed when I went back to work after six days of honeymoon. She was so willing. Willing to give this a try, willing to make it into something that resembled companionship in the least. And it was exactly that warmth, that acceptance, that twisted the knife in my heart, the heart I told her I no longer had.

It was not a complete lie, not really. For when Thorin told me Emma was coming in a week or so, the aforementioned organ skipped a beat at the thought that if there was to be a wedding,  _she_ would come back to Erebor. Whether it was Thorin's, Fili's or Kili's wedding, she would be here.

My mind had been occupied with that thought ever since Thorin told me and I invited him to come eat at my place, completely forgetting that Dina had asked if we could eat together that night. And it wasn’t untill he had left that I noticed the flowers and the snuffed out candles.

Dina was standing in the rarely used kitchen, clearing the leftover food from the plates.

“Was there something special tonight?” I asked

She did not turn around, as she would normally do, with a smile that seemed to say that she would accept everything and just go on. She just nodded slowly and kept clearing the dished methodically.

“I am sorry I forgot.” I started, feeling that again I had come up short and did not give her what she deserved. “Thorin—“

“I’m pregnant.” She interrupted me, making the statement without even looking at me.

I needed a moment before I could respond. A moment to gather myself, to push away the overwheling guilt that just seemed to keep coming in every moment I spent with her, with every sentence I spoke to her, and with everything I neglected to do.

But as I had done the past month, I was now evenly able to swallow away the feeling, and tentatively walked up to her and put my arms around her waist.

“I’m sorry” I whispered.

And then, finally, she got upset. “You refuse to tell me whoms place I’ve taken, so I don’t know.” She started with a trembling voice, her hands balled up at her sides. “But I can not help this any more than you. So if you want to be upset with someone, have at your brother or my father. But not _me_!” Tears started dripping over her cheeks, but when I wanted to wipe them off, she swatted my hand away. “I have acepted it all, will accept it all, but you _will_ show me the barest of decency.”

She slid down onto the floor, her knees pulled to her chest and her face burried in her arms, shaking with sobs. There was a part of me that wanted to leave, run as fast as I could and forget it all in an inn with a couple of ales and a willing lass. But Dina was right: I owed her at least a little comfort. And so I sat down next to her and carefully put my arm around her.

“I do not blame you, Dina. I blame myself, for not giving you what a husband should give his wife. And it is not that I don’t know, for I do, but I find myself unable to actually give it.”

The rest of the words that whirled around in my head did not seem to want to come out, so we sat there for a long time; two miserable people stuck with eachother.

“Did she die?” She asked after a while, and although I wanted to repeat what I had told her on our first meeting, I had neither the heart nor the courage.

“No, she is very much alive.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Dina**

The king was getting married today, and literally the whole kingdom was buzzing with gossip. And this time not only the women, no, also the men just couldn’t stop talking about it. Appearantely last night several elves had gotten into Erebor without being seen and one of them said he was Emma’s father.

Even without that highly doubtfull story the queen to be was somewhat peculiar. I had seen her but once, at the dinner where Thorin opened started their courting. She and her handmaidens had laughed when the king’s former mistress had entered the hall, but feel quiet when the king appraoched them. The rest of the evening I had not seen any emotion fro her again, even though that could be explained by that old fashioned vail she wore.

I looked over the table to Dwalin, who was wolfing down his breakfast. I wondered why he stil late like someone could take away his food at any moment, but perhaps a lifetime of habit could not be erased by a year of wealth.

“Do you know her?” I asked, hoping to find some piece of information that would shine some light on this enigma.

“Emma? Aye, I know her a bit. Why?” He nodded with his mouth full.

I was getting to know my husband a bit, and he wasn’t subtle enough for pretty words and such.With him it was best to just get on with it. “Is she really a half-elf?”

Dwalin stopped chewing and swallowed his bite and then started picking the breadcrumbs out of his beard. “Balin says so.” He said after a while. “He was there last night.”

“And what do you think?” I pressed, hoping I wasn’t overstepping any boundaries but seeing that he knew more than he was telling.

Again he picked at now non-existant crumbs, and then sighed deeply. “You know she was there part of our journey, right?” I nodded. That story wasn’t best known, but it wasnt really a secret either. People just didn;t really talk about it, finding it odd a woman would go on such a quest. Even he hadn’t really mentioned her when he had told me stories of their journey during our honeymoon.

“When we stayed in Rivendel, many asked after the fourteenth member of our company, it made Thorin really grumpy. First lord Elrond asked a few times, and then his sons, and then even servants started prodding. At the time we just found it odd, but in hindsight, I think they knew Emma was supposed to be there.”

I didn’t get it. Everyone, literally everyone, knew how much our king hated elves. So why still marry her? Was it about tightening relationships with the Grey Hills? I couldn’t imagine, as they had little to offer. When I asked Dwalin, he also seemed unsure. “He has known her for a long time, even before Erebor fell. I think his feelings gor her are stronger than his distaste for elves.”

With that, he wpied his mouth with a napkin and got up to change for the wedding.

 

**Dwalin**

The morning of the wedding, my nerves seemed to rule me, and I couldn’t really think properly. I would get to see her today, after far too much time. I felt like a dwarfling, my stomach in knots. Fortunately Dina distracted me from my thoughts, trying to find some gossip. I nearly grinned outloud, her thining she was fooling me. But I gave her what she wanted, and she seemed satisfied with that. If only she knew what I was thinking, that would be real gossip.

 

X-O-X-O

I felt for Thorin when he stood there on the dais in front of everyone. In that normally dour look of him some uncertainty and doubt was visible this morning and I just knew he was wondering if he should marry her.

I was wondering the same. The lass had changed since I last seen her, and to my opinion not for the better. During our journey I sometimes caught her staring at Thorin, and I had thought there was some longing in that look. But in the last week, she hadn’t given him the time of day, treating him as an unwanted visitor in his own mountain.

And then those elves. Balin had come early this morning, telling me what had come to pass last night. Well, the good thing was that I had been able to get rid of some of my nerves about seeing Dis again by getting those lazy arses that were on guard last night to understand what their function was.

Suddenly my thoughts were disturbed by a familiar set of footsteps. All the others were obviously waiting for the bride, but I waited for another. Unknowing of what I was doing, I let go of Dina’s hand and craned my neck to see her. But she sat down quickly and my view of her was blocked by others.

It was in that disappointment that I looked at my wife, the woman that was carrying my child. Even though she could be described as sturdy, she looked frail somehow, and I felt the weight of my betrayal resting heavily on my shoulders. Yet it was lighter than the stone of longing in my heart.

 

X-O-X-O

 

I saw her walking away with her brother, and I waited in the shadows of an alcove in the hallway. In my head I knew I shouldn’t, I knew I had to let the past rest and be satisfied with what I had. If I made an effort, Dina and I could live together in companionship, perhaps fondness even. What I was doing wasn’t fair to either of us, but although it hurt me more than I could have suspected, I couldn’t let Dis go.

“Lansel” I whispered when I heard her returning after having spoken to the king, and when she turned I saw the same turmoil I felt on her face.

“Dwa” she breathed out, and she reached out to take my hand, only to pull back when I reached out.

“Your wife is pragnant.” She stated, and I could only nod. “Are you happy?”

I sighed deeply. “It is what Balin had intended with this marriage. And perhaps it will keep her happy and busy.”

She scoffed. “It is only men that think that having children is a woman’s highest goal. Most women want more than that.”

“I would’ve—we would’ve—“ I could not finish my sentence; it was too hard to think of what could have been.

The bravado she had shown before fell from her face, and I knew she felt the same. But she was Dis, daughter of Thrain, son of Thror. Princess of Erebor, mother of the heir to the most fabled kingdom in Middle Earth. But most of all, she was sister to Thorin. She could not and would not defy him in such a way, even if I was somehow able to get out of my marriage. Not now, not ever.

So we looked at eachother for a while, untill the moment was broken by someone walking through the hallway and singing a bawdy song about wedding nights.

Dis went back to her seat, and I went to the councilroom with the other nobles, waiting for Thorin’s weddingbed sheets to be brought.

When they were taken by a servant, I was confronted with the loneliness in my friend’s life. Even on our quest everyone had had a brother with him, but not Thorin; he had been alone. And now, on his wedding night, there was no familyemember to wait in his chambers and take his sheets. His parents, his grandparents, his brother; all Waiting. Perhaps that was why he married Emma despite her parentage, because he knew she could be family to him.

As the servant dutifully told us what he had heard, I feared the worst buth prayed from the depths of my heart for the best. After all, I knew what terrible burden longing for love could be.


	6. 6

**Dina**

Both implicitely as explicitely, love was never present in out marriage. He had told me even before we married, and he had been frank about it. I had hoped we could at least pretend, but he wasn’t the man to do that, something I both loathed and admired at the same time. What you saw was what you got, he gave you no prettying up.

So I settled within these lines, and worked with what he gave me; focussing on the parts of him I did like. If he was in the mood, he could tell quite an entertaining story, and he was never stingy with money. During my pregnancy I could get anything I wanted, no matter the costs or how futile the item, he never even blinked, let alone say something about it.

It worked for a while, and I felt something that might even resemblance happiness. Oh of course I knew he saw other women. _Finding diversion_ , my mother would call it when she was in a prim and proper mood. _Whoring_ , she would call it when she had a little too much to drink. No matter what you’d call it, I did not know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. It meant he did not visit my chambers, but that could perhaps also be caused by those old-fashioned beliefs that a women should be left in peace when she was pregnant. Probably thought up by some noble woman who wanted some respite from her husband, but something that hadn’t foundation or truth in it, and wasn’t adhered to by non-royals. Still, I was alone at night, and mostly only saw Dwalin at dinner. I found my diversion with the other noble women, listeling to idle gossip.

As I said, it suited me most of the time, but there was one moment I adsolutely hated Dwalin for his reservation towards me.

It started in the early morning, and at first it felt like my period blood was coming. But slowly over the course of many hours, the pains grew stronger, and I knew it was my time. I told our servants to get the healers and inform my mother and Dwalin, thinking they would come to sit by me in what I knew were going to be some difficult hours.

I only got the healers and my mother’s company however, and the latter did not exactly make matters more easy. She kept telling me to do this and that, sit in other ways and bickering witht he healers about it. Dwalin would have ended it, of that I was certain. From what I had seen and heard, he had little patience for such shenanigans. But he was not there. No, he had decided that men did not belong in the birthing chamber, or so my mother informed me. In that moment I also hated my father for arranging this marriage, just as I hated Balin.

But in the end, after all the pain and the blood and every other vile fluid that had exited me in this utterly humiliating and disgusting procedure, it did not matter. None of it mattered anymore when I saw his eyes. His dark hazel eyes that I could just see between his squinted eyes and long lashes. He was quiet after a small cry, looking into the world through small slits of eyes and with balled fists, but I did not believe it to be a bad sign. No, I thought it to be a sign of intelligence or curiosity, of wanting to know more, wanting to see more of this new place, and especially of me.

Dwalin didn’t seem so mesmerized, and it nearly broke my heart after he gave his firstborn little more than a cursory glance and then quickly handing him back to the healer. Right then, exactly in that moment, I knew there was no hope whatsoever. Not even the name of my boy could make up for that.

 

**Dwalin**

Many times I had cursed my brother for arranging this marriage, and many times I had wondered why he had done it. I had thought perhaps it had been to continue our family line, as he and his wife didn’t have children and didn’t seem able to have any. I didn’t know the details, and I never asked for them. All curiosity does is kill the cat after all.

But in the moment I looked into those small, half-closed dark hazel eyes, I thought that this feeling, this overwhelming gulf of emotion that I could not exactly define, was what Balin wanted for me. I had believed my heart to be cold and stony, unwilling to yield for anyone but the one I had wanted but couldn’t get. I was wrong. I was so incredibly wrong. I knew as soon as the little bundle was carefully handed to me by Dina’s mother. The smell of blood still hung in the air and my wife looked utterly exhausted, but all I could look at was my son and feel my heart swell to a point I was afraid my chest was too restricting for it.

When I looked down at the small child in my arms, suddenly I felt too big, too rough and out of proportion. He could almost completely fit in one of my hands and he looked so fragile, so terribly fragile. I knew I would hurt him if I held him longer, I just knew it. Those big paws I called hands would squash him, or the rough edges of my leathers would scratch him. I would drop him, or accidently bump him. The list of things that could go wrong while I held him was endless, and ever so threatening, so I gave him back to the healer, though it was hard to hand him over.

X-O-X-O

When I sat next to Dina’s bed I knew I should consult Thorin, or even just Balin, about the boy’s name. But I knew they would ponder over it for hours. I had not yet forgotten the problems involving choosing Fili’s name. Dis had Thorin called just after the birth and Thorin had literally ran into her chambers. I had been glad for her that he was so eager, as that sod of a husband of hers was out drinking somewhere, doing who knows what. But then Thorin had sat down next to the bed, much like how I was sitting now, and had peered intendly at the baby, or so Dis had told. She had expected him to pick up the child, or at least touch it, but no. Thorin had kept on staring, only stopping when his sister told him he had to leave because she wanted to sleep. After that, it had taken him about a week to think of a name.

Later, in an inn in Tharbad, he had told me the whole story while enjoying a nice ale or two. It had been the first time he was allowed to name a child of the line of Durin. He had believed it an honour, but I knew it was only granted because Thror was too far gone and Thrain hated even the thought of his daughter having a child by her husband, much less having to name it. The old goat had seen the error of his father’s decision quite quickly after the wedding.

Anyway, I did not want Thorin to name the child for obvious reasons, and I knew Balin would start listing every important figure in our line that had ever done anything slightly interesting  to his opinion and then choosing one of their names. But that’s not what I wanted. Honour to those that deserve it, I believe. And in this matter, there was only one that deserved honour, only one that had fought and bled for this. So I named him Dillin, for my wife. And a little for me, can’t completely fuck up tradition after all.

It was only later that I realized that it could also be for _her_.


	7. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A happy new year to all of you! May your dreams become reality and may your reality be a dream!

**Dina**

If I look back now, I would say that the years have flown by, bringing me into old age without having noticed it. But back then, time felt it was passing at the pace of an elderly snail. I loved Dillin with all my heart, without any reservation, but caring for a baby was not the most mind-challenging task.

I fed, I cleaned diapers, I sang lullabies and I watched him as he slept. And then he woke up and it all started again. I knew I had to be happy and grateful for what I had, and I was to a certain degree. But I longed for more, for conversation and to at least see other people again.

In the years to follow, I sometimes wished I stayed cooped up inside our appartment forever.

I saw him when I went looking for Balin one afternoon. My brother-in-law had had dinner with us the night before and had forgotten one thing or another, I don’t even know what anymore. A guard ushered me into Balin’s office, and there he sat. Bent over a scroll, his fingers slightly blotched with ink. For the rest I could only see the blue doublet and black trousers and boots all the king’s scribes wore. And his hair, his perfect hair. It looked soft, the dark tresses shining in the light of the many candles. And then he looked up, and I looked straight into his eyes. It could have been a minute, an hour or perhaps even a whole day, but I couldn’t look away. It wasn’t untill Balin had repeated his welcome at least three times, I had to tear my gaze away from, hopelessly stumbling through my words to Balin. In the end, I just gave him back his belongings and quickly left the office, nearly running through the hallways.

How could this be? How could I suddenly feel like my world had turned upside down? It was difficult to walk, as if I was wading through a swamp. When I was finally back home, I could only just close the door behind me and sink against it. I knew what would happen, everyone knew what happened when a dwarf met their One. The feelings would never lessen, the longing would never stop not untill either partner went to the Halls of Waiting. How could I go on living the life I had, feeling the way I felt? I did not know what to do, and my despair only worsened when Balin came to visit again that night.

 

**Dwalin**

Time passed and my Dillin seemed to grow everyday. I found myself wanting to be home more and more, wanting to spent as much time as possible with him. In this, I envied Dina. She got to see him as much as she wanted, play with him, feed him. My son brought me a sense of peace, of acceptance instead of resignation.

For a while it was good. I should have known it could not last.

Again Balin was the bearer of bad news. He came one night for dinner and at first I thought nothing of it. We ate, he spoke of all the unimportant things he always talked about and that was supposed to be that. Only it wasn’t. After dinner he asked for a drink and more conversation, only now in my chambers. The fool that I was, again I didn’t think anything off, my thoughts were more with missing time with Dillin.

“Dina came to see me today.” He started. “to return my pipe.”

I grunted. Perhaps it would have been nicer to talk with Dina about her day, sitting by the fire with the three of us.

“One of Thorin’s scribes was there too.”

My brother’s capacity of talking in single statements was astonishing and sometimes made my balls itch in annoyance. But it also gave me the opportunity to just nod and grunt and think of something else. Perhaps, if things went well, Dina and I could have another child in a couple of years. Perhaps we could be content in life together with our children.

“I believe she has met her One.”

Balin’s words jerked me back to reality after just nodding along and I realised I had missed quite a bit of what he had just said.

“One?” I dumbly responded.

My brother tilted his head carefully. “There is always a possibility, it just—it doesn’t happen often.”

He kept talking and talking but I did not even pretend to listen. I remember thinking that Mahal must really hate me. Just when I was ready, ready for her, for us, he just took it all away. Again.

I started to fret. What if she was going to leave me? Would she take Dillin from me? My mind just went on and on, and somehow I was unable to stop my thoughts. The next time I looked up, Balin had left and the fire had dwindled down to some embers.

It was then that I started to get upset. How could she! How could she do this to me, to our son?! Did our family not matter to her?

Looking back, I was not proud of what I did next, to say the least. But I could not hold myself back and with big seps I stalked into her room. She was already in bed, but instead of sleeping, she was just staring at the wall, deep in thought. My rough entrance startled her, and she pulled the blankets a little further over her chest, looking at me with wide open, guilty, moist eyes.

 

X-O-X-O

After, after I had yelled and roared and thrown her things around the room, I sat down on my own bed and cursed myselfwhile I heard Dillin cry in the background. I didn’t know why I acted as I had. I didn’t know why I felt this knot in my stomach that seemed to burn brighter everytime I thought of Dina looking at another with love in her eyes.

Was it reasonable for a husband like me to expect her loyalty, both in act and mind? Normally not one for long and arduous thinking, not at all, this question kept me up half the night. Fairness, that what this was all about. I had just accepted all the things that had happened in my life. A dragon taking over Erebor? Accepted it. Wandering through unknown and quite inhospitable lands? Accepted it. Having to deal with condescending Men? Accepted it. Not getting to marry the woman I wanted? Accepted it. Having to marry someone else? Accepted it. I accepted it all without thinking about whether it was fair or not.

But now, now that I had given up on what I wanted, but the one that was supposed to be within this didn’t, I just couldn’t get past the unfairness of it all. Unfair to me and unfair to Dina. Damn Balin, damn Tradition and damn scribe of Thorin.

In the end, when watery rays of sunlight started to shine through my window and seemed to wash away the despair that the night had brought with it, I realised I was the only one that could end this. That I was the only one that could be fair in this.


	8. Empty

**Dina**

He had yelled at me. And I understood. He had accused me of ruining everything. And I understood. He accused me of infidelity. And I understood. But what I didn’t understand was that he was angry with me because of my feelings. I couldn’t help it. On the contrary: if I could wish those feelings away, I would. But I couldn’t.

In the day I was plagued by worry about what Dwalin would do and in the night my dreams were plagued with images of the scribe. A scribe; my father would disown me just for that. From Dwalin’s rantings I had understood that his name was Tomal. And I just kept hearing that name in my head, over and over again. I tried to focus my attention on Dillin, I tried to go and sit with the other ladies to find some diversion, but in the end none of it worked.

And so, in a moment of weakness after having dreamt of him for what felt like the hundredth time in a row, I wrote him a letter. I explained what I had felt when I saw him, I explained it was an impossible situation, and I apologised for all the trouble I had undoubtedly caused him. I hadn’t seen Dwalin for about a forthnight, but I imagined he had spoken to the king about this whole situation and Tomal had been fired from his work as a king’s scribe.

I gave the letter to a sevant with the instruction of whom to deliver it to, and then I waited. I waited with hope, I waited with trepidation and I waited with regret. But in the end, my mood did not matter. Everything stayed eerily silent. Dwalin didn’t come home, Tomal didn’t respond to my letter and no one had come to remove me from Erebor and take away my child. Balin came, once. He asked how I was, kind as ever, and remained mum about Tomal or Dwalin. He just chatted about everything and nothing.

And then, one afternoon, there was a loud knock on the door. I first debated with myself if I should answer or not, but a second knock seemed to pull me to the door. It was him.

 

**Dwalin**

I spent a week drowned in ale in some brothel disguised as a tavern. A soft and willingly offered pair of breasts to bury my face in had always helped to take my mind off my woes, and so it did now. Yet in those dark hours before dawn, when the whole of Erebor was silent and I was surrounded by nothing but darkness, there wasn’t anything that could stop my mind from going where I didn’t want to be.

I wasn’t faithful to her, the legs I had spent an hour between just this evening proved that. But if she acted the same, who knew what kind of children would be passed off as mine. I was certain Dillin was mine; she hadn’t left my side for a week when he was conceived, but in the future?

 

X-O-X-O

When I stood in front of my own front door for the first in a forthnight, it just didn’t feel right to just barge in. So I knocked in the most polite way I could manage, and waited. When Dina opened the door, her tentative smile faltered and she took an insecure step back. So this is how it was now. A marriage that was at least supposed to be civilised had disintegrated into her seeing me as some sort of agressive brute.

I walked in nonetheless, determinded to get this matter settled.

“I have tought about it for a long time, Dina.” I said when I sat down on the sofa with a glass of whiskey. She still stood, looking at me like I was a warg that had entered her house and was now occupying a place in her living room. “Come sit.” I said, patting the seat next to me.

“Nothing happened, I swear.”She whispered as she sat, looking at her hands in her lap.

“I want more children, and I want them to be mine.” I stated. Dina just nodded so meekly that I wondered if she was going to take her clothes off and offer herself to me. “But I also know the burden of impossible love.”

I paused for a moment, thinking one last time if I could really do this, if I was perhaps making a terrible mistake and if this would be my undoing. But if I didn’t do it, it would be our undoing.

“You can be with him. You will give him no children. You will not be seen with him. You will not talk about him and you will not bring him to our home. And in a couple of years, you will give me a second child.”

Dina still did not look at me, fidgeting with the folds of her dress, tough she nodded slightly.

 

X-O-X-O

 

When I laid in my own bed for the first time in two weeks that night, I felt saddeningly empty. I knew I had done the right thing on some level, but I wondered if I was ever going to get my lucky break, or if this was all my life was going to be: paying for the affection of whores and a cheating wife.


	9. Secrets

**Dina**

Two years had passed, and although it wasn’t always easy, I could honestly say I was happy with my life. Dwalin and I lived together in our apartment, and the moments spent together were something akin those I spent with my friends. Not that Dwalin and I spoke about dresses and such, but it felt like the same kind of comradery. The tension I had felt in the beginning of our marriage, the tension that came from unrealistic expectations from my side and his unability to fulfill them, had disappeared, its place taken by a more relaxed air. He was still involved with raising Dillin and encouraged me to also take up other activities, such as my active role in the queen’s council. He was interested in my life. But he never asked me about Tomal, not in word and not in action.

There was only one thing that hung over us, or over me at least, like a black stormy cloud. He had been serious when he told me he wanted a second child, and I knew the time for that came ever nearer. I also knew what needed to be done in order to have a child, and I wondered how it would make me feel, how it would make Tomal feel.

Tomal. I could honestly say he was wonderful. Not many men would have let me be with him as Dwalin had, and even fewer men would have accepted this arrangement as Tomal had. But he did. With part of the money I had gotten as my dowery I had bought an apartment a few levels down where he now lived. A couple of nights a week, when a nanny or my mother watched Dillin, I went there around dinnertime and returned the following afternoon.

Sometimes we just ate and sat together, reading a book or so, and sometimes we had the deepest conversations I ever had. And on some rare nights we went to a tavern or inn, usually in Dale. Any public establishment in Erebor was still impossible for us, if we were to be seen, everything would be ruined. Sometimes that felt constricture or oppressive, but most of the times I was able to accept that this was the best I could get out of my life and it would go ever on like this.

Until one day. There had been rumours of late, people running back and forth, Tomal hearing some things, but finally the decision was made. Erebor and the Grey Hills would be going to war. Both Moria and Gundabad would be conquered. For queen Emma, some said. The king was going to go himself and, as we were having dinner together, Dwalin told me he was going with him. He didn’t think it would be long, but, as he said, war was unpredictable.

He was right.

 

**Dwalin**

Emma had grand plans. Balin had grand plans. They shoud have stayed plans. Nice things to dream about on cold winter nights, but never actually do.  Enter Thorin in the scene; our almighty king. So eager to please his wife and get Balin to stop nagging. Pleasing Emma I could understand, I don’t think the king had gotten much in the past year. And now that I thought about it, I could also understand wanting Balin to shut up. After all, his nagging had gotten me to marry. I wish I had been able to go to war to stop his nagging. But no, I ended up with a wife.

Dina was, well, lets say that the time we spent together she was perfectly nice. But every time she wasn’t at home for dinner or didn’t sleep at home I knew where she was and what she was doing.  When I was feeling especially melancholic I imagined how she opened her legs for the scribe, how he took my wife and how she would moan for him. Had you asked how I would feel about this in the beginning of our marriage, I would have told you I wouldn’t give a fuck. Had you asked me how I would feel when I found out about her feelings, I would have told I would kill them both. But now, now that it had been almost five years, I was somewhere in the middle of those two very different emotions. It stung, I had to admit that. It stung to know that _my_ wife was giving herself to someone else, in a house that was paid for with a dowery _my_ brother paid for. But most of all it stung that she got what she wanted and I didn’t. She was able to spend time with the one she loved and I could only pine from afar.

Even more now, as I sat on some damned rock in some damned orc infested land for some damned cause. They should have just sealed off the Grey Hills and be done with it. But no. No, some elves started whispering in Emma’s ear, she wanted to find some power somewhere, and she started whispering in Thorin’s ear. Or perhaps opening her legs again. That was probably it. So if that stubborn goat had just taken some tavernslut, or even that gid that gave him a son, we would be at home. Warm comfortable and most of all: not hunting some craven orcs day in and day out for the past three years.

I had a feeling Thorin felt the same. Not about the whore, though maybe about his consort, but about sitting all warm and comfortable at home. Was his homelife comfortable? Personally I couldn’t imagine Emma creating something like a homely vibe, but Thorin seemed happy with her. Most of the time at least, when they weren’t in some outrageous fight.

All this thinking of wanting to be somewhere else, wanting something else, combined with some bastard having the urge to keep singing about pretty lasses, got me in a wrong sort of mood, so I went to sit next to Thorin, drinking some more untill some was enough to forget. That was my first mistake, and I should have known. Because there had never been enough to drink to forget her, but in several instances in my life there had been enough to drink to loosen my tongue. As my brother had so often said: I wasn’t the brains in the family.

So when he asked, when my best friend asked, I finally told my secret. One of them at first, and I found unexpected understanding. Who would have thought, Emma and that tree shagger. And Thorin getting over it. I was somehow glad I wasn’t the only one with a wife that looked at another, though mine did it rather a lot. Had I been in another mood, in another place, it would have been hilarious. But now it somehow gave me courage. Courage to tell Thorin the secret I had never told anyone.

That was my second mistake.


End file.
